


Terror

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubble Destruction fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If they want him, oh, they're gonna have to fight me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terror

_“i’ll roll over and hold him tightly_

_and scream_

_if you want him_

_oh you’re gonna have to fight me”_

_Night Terror-Laura Marling_

She smelled the demon before she ever saw him coming.

Death had not dulled the senses she had gained with her short-lived godhood. An odor, ashy and coppery and sour, drifted past her nose and the smile fell from her face, to be replaced by cautious curiosity. That wasn’t anything she had smelled in the bubbles before, or in her life, for that matter. It was a disgusting, stomach turning stench, and it unsettled her.

Her ears pressed against her head, her hackles rising as a growl built in her throat. Her white eyes scanned the sky that was not a sky above, seeing nothing unusual, but the stench grew thicker by the second.

He asked her what the hell she was sniffing at, and she turned to answer.

Hell broke loose.

The sky that wasn’t really a sky filled with color. Not pretty sunrise or sunset colors—blinding, bright, flashing colors that forced her to shield her eyes, and caused him to curse as he threw his hands over his face.

A scream rose up, and she knew.

A few charred and frightened souls had entered their bubble what seemed like years ago, shaking and telling of a monster, a demon, shattering the bubble that had once held their souls. They had narrowly escaped with their afterlives—but they were a lucky few among hundreds.

She grabbed his hand and barked an order and leader or no he was going to fucking listen to her.

_Run._

It was futile. She had no idea if there were any other bubbles near enough for them to escape to, and wouldn’t the demon go for the closest ones next? For that matter, could they make the leap from one bubble to another before the demon attacked?

He swore and struggled to keep up with her on his short legs, they pushed past other ghosts who stood frozen with fear and she tried—she tried so hard to not look at their faces. There was no way to save everyone and it hurt. She had so many, many friends in this bubble that she didn’t want to leave but there was just no other way:

She was going to get him out of here.

He wasn’t going to die again.

She would make sure of it.

The light behind them grew ever more blinding. She could scarcely see where she was running to but she couldn’t give up. Her grip on his hand was vice like as she ran as fast as her feet could carry her. His cursing had long since fallen silent, the only sounds behind or ahead of her screams or frantic footsteps.

Were they almost there? Were they halfway there? Were they anywhere near escape?

It didn’t really matter:

He tripped, and she turned around.

She didn’t need her superior hearing or sense of smell to tell her they were doomed—she could see it plainly; the demon bearing down through the sky and opening its mouth wide.

He didn’t have the voice to curse, to plead, or to even say her name. White eyes stared into hers and she never thought such blank eyes could hold so much terror.

She wished she had a gun. She would give anything for a gun. Useless as it may have been against the demon, she wanted to fight. She wanted to fight tooth and nail for his afterlife and her own before the inevitable swallowed them whole.

The best she could do was throw her arms around him, pulling his head against her chest and cradling him in her arms so he didn’t see it coming. She glared right at the demon as it let loose the beam, digging her ghostly fingers into black hair and black sweater and grinding her teeth.

His voice returned to him. He didn’t struggle against the embrace that kept his eyes from the demon, and more importantly, from her face. He embraced her tightly, tangling grey hands in her hair and whispering over and over _I love you I love you I love you I love you_.

She returned it each time, trying with all her might to keep her voice and her arms steady. She wouldn’t cry or shake. She wouldn’t add to his fear with her own. If this was the end he would go safe in her arms.

She wished she could look at his face one more time, before it ended.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love-“

_“don’t fight me.”_


End file.
